Roaring Hearts
by SweetSouthernSass
Summary: After losing her parents unexpectedly, Caroline leaves the home she's always known in trade for a California sun and a new life in her godparents' hometown. But starting over isn't always as easy as it seems and secrets she attempts to keep hidden continue to resurface. Can the Sons protect her from what lurks in the shadows? Or will her newfound family prove too scary to keep?
1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:** Christmas break has provided tons of time to watch Netflix all curled up on the couch and I recently jumped on the SOA trend! It was so addicting that I decided to possibly start a story and now here we are! This is my very first _Sons of Anarchy _story, though I've read some I've never written one. So go easy on me! ;)

Pairing: Eventual Jax TellerXOFC or ChibsXOFC. We'll see where it goes! Who knows? It'll be a surprise!

Rating: M for definite adult situations/themes, language, lawlessness and general SOA badassery!

Warning!: This story will contain imagery, language and situations that will fit into the SOA world. If that isn't your idea of a fun time, turn back now! Also, if you're a supreme Tara lover you might want to look away because this story obviously won't be in her favor :p

*Constructive comments are always welcome, follows, favorites and reviews are loved, but please keep any nasty flames. No one likes those lol.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Sons of Anarchy (shame!), its characters or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may appear in this fiction. I DO own my OC- Caroline Hamilton and any other original characters as well as my own personal plotline twists and original ideas!**

* * *

_~Caroline's POV~_

I paid no mind to the pressure I was adding to the gas pedal underneath my foot, gazing blankly into the scenery that was passing me by in quick flashes through the windshield. It changed from what were almost desert-like plains to sandy mountains and valleys so quickly, you could hardly take notice of it even if you were paying close attention. But none of that registered in my mind as I drove along the deserted highway toward the small town in California I had practically been ordered to. Instead of paying attention, I was doing that thing where I was looking at the road but seeing something else entirely as I sped down the seemingly empty highway.

Memories, thoughts, fears…wishes.

Realistically the habit was entirely dangerous for myself _and_ others. It was also detrimental to noticing speed traps as it turned out, when the sharp wailing of a siren filled my ears over the roar of the Mustang's engine. My eyes snapped to the rearview mirror and I cursed heatedly under my breath when I caught sight of the police vehicle whipping around in the middle of the road before it pulled up on me as I guided the car to the side of the road.

"_Dammit_!" I hissed, watching from behind my aviators as the officer climbed from his jeep.

He was full of himself, which was easy to see in his arrogant walk from the back of my car forward as he scanned it. He squinted against the sunlight and I took the time to wrestle my new registration papers for the new car from the glove compartment.

"Ma'am." He muttered in greeting.

"Officer." I nodded.

My eyes darted to the tag on his uniform, instantly taking in the fact that his name was Hale. He seemed like a deputy and I sighed softly, glad that at least I'd had the luck not to draw the sheriff or something.

"Do you realize how fast you're going?" He asked, crossing his arms to look down on me, judging.

I bit my lip and winced, a blush coloring my cheeks. "I'm so sorry, I guess I just...zoned out."

He nodded before holding his hand out, beckoning to me with his fingers in a sign that he wanted my papers and license which I handed over with no protest. The last thing I wanted to do was start a problem with the law. He quickly scanned the papers first before the license, his eyebrows creasing as he took his time going over the information.

"Paper plates and a New York license?"

I nodded in response to the statement that was obviously a question without him fully asking it. Cops had a funny way of twisting their words just right in what I could only call an almost politician style conversation, I'd witnessed it multiple times as my father rose through his political ranks.

"Yes sir." I murmured, gazing up at him. "I'm in the process of moving."

I pointed out the multiple suitcases piled in the backseat of the new car I'd picked up from the airport only a few hours before. He gazed at the luggage before turning his curious eyes back to me, taking me in. I let my eyes do the same, noticing his confident stature as he stood in front of me. He wasn't bad looking, was actually kind of handsome in his own way if you could get over the obvious testosterone and arrogance he emitted, claiming the town obviously. The man nodded to me in understanding and I flashed a small smile, praying and hoping he wouldn't ask why.

I wasn't that lucky though.

"Well Miss. Hamilton, what brings you to-"

Deep rumblings cut him off and I felt vibrations from the earth coursing through the Mustang's tires and into the car's upholstery before they seeped into me. It was loud as hell, a deep and demanding roar as whatever it was got closer and closer. I tilted my head and arched out over my open window in an attempt to find the source of the overpowering noise just as a pack of motorcycles crested over the hill behind us. A small grin fit itself on my lips for some reason as the dark shadow that represented the group rumbled past us, sending my hair flying in the wind. The riders turned toward us and I picked out a handful of smirks before the deputy stepped in front of my open window, blocking them from my view.

"God damn, white trash _thugs_." He hissed, glaring as the group drove forward.

I arched a brow as he stepped away, wondering for a fleeting moment if those men were a part of the same group I was incidentally heading toward in search of my aunt and uncle. Well, they weren't _really_ my relatives, they were actually my godparents. But I'd taken to calling them my aunt and uncle a long time ago and didn't see any reason not to.

They were family.

"Easy officer friendly," I joked, smiling brightly. "I may be a traffic violator, but I'm still a lady."

The man spun around from where he stood watching after the long gone pack of men on their bikes, looking down at me like he had completely forgotten I was waiting there for him and my ticket. His expression was regretful as he apologized quickly before handing me the papers and my license back through the open window.

"I'm going to let you off with a warning, just this _once_ Miss. Hamilton," He said sternly, a small smile on his lips. "Welcome to Charming."

* * *

_"Turn left in point six miles."_

I narrowed my eyes at the GPS as it spit out directions to me, finally on track. Of course, if I had waited the extra four days to fly in town and drive down as planned, I'd have had Gemma and Clay to guide me and wouldn't have to deal with the confusing directions. But staying in New York and in that hallowed house any more…it was just something I could no longer do after everything that had happened. So I'd cleared my new plan with the movers who were still on schedule, and bumped up my flight to California by a few days. Now I was maneuvering the car through the small town roads, unsure of my destination even though the town wasn't even a fourth of New York crazy.

_"Turn left in point three miles."_

My eyes quickly scanned the road ahead, looking for a sign of the automotive shop Uncle Clay owned that was my target, the heavy bass of the music I had on pulsing through the car and filling my ears. I was the epitome of contrasts in every single way. From New York City, dressed all kinds of southern proper in a brightly patterned dress that hit just above my knees, blaring hip-hop and pop in a muscle car.

I grinned to myself; Gemma had told me to make an impression.

_"Turn left now. You have reached your destination."_

The tension left my body immediately when I spotted the huge Teller-Morrow sign, happy that I had at least been able to find the place without resorting to calling Gemma. I wanted to surprise both her and Clay since they both still thought they were picking me up from the airport in four days. The tension returned though as I slowly pulled through the crowded lot to a parking space on the side, the bass still thudding along with the rumble of my engine, and heads began to turn my way. The men that I could see were older for the most part, extremely rough looking, and the women's outfits screamed slut compared to mine, making me swallow thickly as Gemma's words from a week before ran through my mind.

"_They're tough men Caroline, you're going to have to be able to hold your own."_

"No shit." I muttered, gazing around.

A silence closed in around me when I cut the roaring engine as I took a deep breath, sucking in some much needed oxygen. I closed my eyes, mentally pepping myself up for this new task in front of new people. I hadn't realized how nervous I was about seeing them, even though I'd just seen Gemma not long before. Anxiousness settled around me as I opened my eyes again, finding what looked like a guy around my age gazing at me through the windshield curiously. I bit down on my lip and took a deep breath before I popped the door open, rising as gracefully as possible in my heels from the low seat.

"Holy…" His eyes were wide as he took me in, making me frown.

And then I got it.

I _definitely_ stood out.

The garage in front of me was full of grease-covered men dressed in dirty tanks and pants all working on cars and motorcycles while the men lounging around the lot behind me were dressed in leather vests and baggy shirts, biker attire I assumed, while the women were lucky to be dressed at all. Then there was me; bright green and white striped dress with matching white heels, complete with a tiny bow.

"_Jesus_." I hissed, dropping my shades down over my eyes in an attempt to hide without actually doing so.

"Y-you need some help…ma'am?"

I turned to find the same guy still eyeing me, walking over slowly like I might bolt or run away from him at any sudden movement like a scared horse. He was a little grimy, but mainly scruffy from what I could see, with sandy red hair. His blue-gray eyes were cautious and excited at the same time as he seemed to relax, stepping closer.

"I might." I trilled, flashing a brightened grin his way. "What's your name?"

"Half-Sack."

A small snort escaped me as I stared at him incredulously, dropping my sunglasses from my face after being caught off guard by the name. I folded them easily and held them in my hands, still gazing at him fidget in front of me while I tried not to laugh.

"Excuse me?" I questioned.

"They call me half-sack 'round here." He muttered, blushing slightly. "My real name's Kip."

A slow smile curled my lips upward as I held out my hand. "Well Kip, I'm Caroline."

Kip shook my hand gently, making me wonder if he was worried he'd get me dirty. I smiled again and relaxed despite the stares I could feel burning into my back and the slight tremors of laughter moving throughout the group at my appearance. It didn't really bother me, I was more than aware I came from a different lifestyle than all these men and definitely the girls I saw gathered around.

Memories of Charming were vague in my mind from when I was younger before we stopped visiting when I was about thirteen and only a few things stood out. My mother never explained it all, but I had a feeling our discontinued visits to Charming had something to do with my father's entrance into politics. As I gazed around the lot, I could see where our vacation plans would put a stain on his impeccable record and I wasn't all that surprised that he'd made us stop coming, that was just his nature. Gemma and my mother's relationship had survived though; being best friends since childhood could do that, and she had shown up in New York multiple times throughout my life.

She was _always_ there when my mother needed her.

"Did you have some car trouble?" Kip murmured after clearing his throat to draw me from my silent brooding.

I shook my head, smiling. "No, I'm actually here to surprise someone."

I had a mere second to take in the huge widening of his eyes as he gaped at me before I spun on my heels in search of the building Gemma had mentioned as the clubhouse. They clicked on the concrete as I turned, my eyes sweeping my surroundings until they landed on a building to my right with what looked like a heavy door. I tilted my head to the side, reading the words that were painted across the top.

Sons Of Anarchy.

Along with it, a huge circle was painted on the side of the building that held what looked like a skeleton dressed as a reaper.

"_Interesting…"_ I thought, narrowing my eyes.

Gemma had told me there was a lot more to talk about when I arrived and I dimly wondered just what exactly she meant and what I was getting into. The men here looked near ready to rip into people with their bare hands and now there was this cryptic name with a freaking _skeleton_ to add in the mix. Sighing I continued forward though, ignoring the loud stuttering behind me. Apparently I'd left the guy completely stunned and I smirked impishly as I lifted my keys in the air over my shoulder, pressing the automatic lock.

"W-what! _Wait_!" He shouted, taking off after me.

I laughed quietly as my hand connected with the front door, already sure that my assumption to go this way was correct by his astounded response. I threw the door open, ignoring his shouts to stop and the grumbling from the different people in the lot as I stepped over the threshold into the dim light. I stood for a moment to let my eyes adjust only to squint again when the door opened once more and the guy barreled through it, nearly knocking me to the floor.

"You can't be _IN_ here!" He huffed, latching onto my elbow.

Panic laced through my body immediately at the rough contact, sending an ice-cold wave of fear through my bloodstream as my eyes riveted on the place where his hand met my skin. A bead of sweat dipped down my neck as flashbacks to burning pain surfaced in my mind, making my eyes glaze over.

"Hey…_hey_!" He murmured, his voice straining as it ripped me from my own mind. "Are ya okay?"

My eyebrow arched as I gazed from him to my arm pointedly. "I'd appreciate it if you took your hand _off_ me."

Kip's eyes widened before he looked down to see his death grip on my forearm that was now beginning to ache and he let go instantly like his hand was on fire. I rubbed the spot gingerly, wincing slightly as I did and he spewed a long sentence of apologies frantically. I opened my mouth to tell him it was fine, but the sound of a door slamming open and loud, boisterous voices cut me off.

"Yer _still_ a fuckin' idiot."

A tall brunette with a little bit of gray peeking throughout it ambled through the door to a side room first, still turned toward his companions. The man's Irish brogue enveloped me, earning a smirk of appreciation as a tingle shot down my spine, I'd always been a sucker for accents. He was quickly crowded by another man with dark hair that was riddled with curls, a scowl on his face.

"Climb off my dick."

My brow arched as he stumbled through the door, shoved from behind by another guy who was younger but still older than me. His skin was a darker tone and covered with an array of tattoos from what I could see. After him came an older man, his gray and black hair long and almost puffy. I could just see a head of familiar blonde hair over his shoulder, and behind him another tall figure that I instinctively knew was Clay, even though it had been a few years, still left in the room.

"Seems ta be the only way ta…wha' the _hell_?"

My eyes darted back to find the Irishman at the front of the group, his dark eyes on me as he stared on unwavering like he was in shock. His outburst was like a ripple effect as all the men turned toward me, their eyes traveling over my body fluidly without another word. I held firm even though I felt like squirming, a smirk still playing on my lips almost daringly as I arched a brow, waiting. The expression seemed to provoke slow grins to spread over their own faces, and the curly haired brunette stepped toward me slowly. His leer was obvious as his eyes raked my body once more before he came to a stop not a foot away from me, the Irish right behind him. I tilted my head to the side, waiting for whatever would come.

"You look a little _lost_ sweet thang." He murmured, his voice pitched low.

I grinned innocently before I wet my lips with my tongue, something that didn't go unnoticed. "Hardly."

"Then what are you-"

A booming voice cut him off and I leaned to the side to look around the two men in front of me, finding the object of my surprise grinning widely at me. He was the same way I remembered him, if only a little rougher looking with his hair a shade or two lighter from age.

"Well I'll be _damned_, if it isn't Caroline Hamilton." He laughed, stepping closer toward me.

My smirk grew and I tossed a wink his way as the men around us glanced back and forth between their leader and I with shocked and questioning expressions, completely baffled that I apparently knew him and in fact, _wasn't_ lost after all.

"Uncle Clay."

Complete silence fell over the open room, all eyes captivated by our exchange.

"Well don't just stand there sweetheart!" Clay laughed, holding out open arms. "Come give this old man some love!"


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note:** Chapter two is definitely filler for the most part, a pre-introduction of Caroline to the gang before they really get the chance find out her story, or what she'll share rather (; Thank you so very much for all the favorites, follows and reviews! It is so awesome to see that so many people already like the story and how it started off. I only hope that it continues to be something you all enjoy! Happy Reading!

Rating: M for definite adult situations/themes, language, lawlessness and general SOA badassery!

*Constructive comments are always welcome, follows, favorites and reviews are loved, but please keep any nasty flames. No one likes those lol.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Sons of Anarchy (shame!), its characters or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may appear in this fiction. I DO own my OC- Caroline Hamilton and any other original characters as well as my own personal plotline twists and original ideas!**

* * *

_~Jax's POV~_

Jax Teller stood to the side of his stepfather, frozen as he watched the girl wrap her arms around the older man, holding on for dear life from what it seemed. She had practically tackled the other man, nearly knocking him right off of his feet with her tight embrace. The action and her laughing words had left Jax completely speechless, a semblance that the rest of the guys that hung around them in a loose circle seemed to share as they all gaped at the duo. There was typically always someone who had some sort of smartass remark to drop but the silence amongst them remained and Jax took the opportunity to gauge their expressions.

Shock, confusion, and more shock.

Who _was_ this chick?

It was a question that was written over each man's face while they watched the girl finally separate from their club president, the light tapping sound of her heels filling the air as Clay lowered her to her feet gently and guided her toward the bar as they talked. She was the total opposite of just about every other girl they'd ever seen walk through the clubhouse doors and in no way represented a sweetbutt, croweater or _anything_ of the likes. She had class written all over her, something that most women that entertained the men of the club couldn't even define.

So why the hell was she sitting at the bar now and laughing with Clay?

Why did she look so _freakin'_ familiar for some reason?

And what was that strange feeling coursing through his body, a nagging tingle that suggested he knew more than he thought he did?

Her airy laughter distracted Jax from his thoughts and from taking in his brothers' reactions around him, pulling his eyes back toward her as he let them drift over her from head to toe, as did most of the remaining men in the room. She was entirely feminine; from the gentle sway of her hips as she was guided forward by his stepfather that more than one biker in the room noticed, the long brunette locks that reached down below her shoulder blades and were tinted with an amber color, all the way to the brightly colored dress that clung carefully to her curves and contrasted with the darkened color of the room they stood in. She looked like she should be over in the north side of Charming lounging with all the other country club princesses by the pool, _not_ making herself comfortable on an MC clubhouse barstool.

"Don't worry about it, Aunt Gem warned me I was in for-"

"Wait just a second darlin', _you_ know _my_ mom?" Jax finally spoke up, interrupting her mid-sentence.

Disbelieving murmurs rumbled through the group of guys that had surrounded this new girl along with Jax who had sunk down on the stool right next to her with absolutely no recollection of doing so. He fixed the brunette with an amused smirk, as if to say _'You've got to be kidding me'_. But when she swiveled on her stool and fixed him with a pair of the most captivating eyes he'd seen in years, he lost all thought of his doubt. They were completely holding, an almost glimmering green that was edged with a toasted hazel color. It reminded him of the sun bouncing off the trees in the woods when he rode past during sunset. They crinkled just a little at the corners, matching the small smile that played on her full lips he could only imagine Tig was having a fantastic time fantasizing about already.

She answered silently in a small nod that sent a wave of her scent his way, nearly making him lose his balance on the stool he was reclined on. She had a bright and almost flowery smell to her that was mixed with something along the lines of strawberries. It was just the right amount, not overpowering like most of the girls that rolled through the doors. Instead it was a subtle, feminine scent that was designed to be a distraction to just about any male on the planet that appreciated having a girl's company. Still, it didn't break the hold she had with his eyes, even when the gruff sound of a throat clearing filled the air.

There was something so damn _familiar_ about those eyes, the way they held his tightly.

Jax didn't know what it was, but he was damn sure going to find out.

* * *

_~Caroline's POV~_

Introductions and explanations to the group of guys I had no doubt surprised with my appearance were disappointingly short, both for the gruff men surrounding me who didn't get the answers to their questions _and_ for my general curiosity over the men that Gemma had talked so much about. I had a few nicknames stored in my mind here and there from our conversations in the past and when she'd come to New York to help me figure out my current plan of action, but I had no faces to align them with and couldn't even begin to tell one from the other. I had looked around the crowd quickly in hopes of spotting a familiar face, at least amongst the older members who had been there the last time I'd set foot in Charming, but I couldn't seem to place any.

Except one.

Aside from Gemma and Clay there was only one other resident of Charming, California I could remember and that was mainly because the last time I had seen him I was thirteen and _thoroughly_ convinced that I was in love.

Jax Teller.

And he'd plopped down, albeit roughly, _right_ next to me.

His heat had been warming, a subtle wave rolling from him and into me, notifying me of his presence so close to mine. I could feel his gaze on me even more strongly than the rest who had their eyes transfixed on me and I'd quickly caught a glimpse of his bright blue and curious eyes watching me steadily, dissecting my every move. They were the same striking color I'd remembered from the past even though it had easily been ten years since I'd seen them last, and they were still just as captivating as they had been when I was young and thought he was in fact a prince charming from Charming. He'd reacted with amused surprise and doubt when I'd uttered Gemma's name, as did most of the men around us, and I'd taken the opportunity to turn toward him, facing his questioning gaze head on.

I had to remind myself just to _breathe_.

The full force of his eyes were mind numbing and dispelled my mind of any smartass remarks I had managed to come up with, leaving me with no retort for his tone. Instead, all I had at my defense was an innocent smirk that played on my lips while I forced my hands to remain still and not act on the instinctual need to push his blonde locks that grazed his shoulders from his face. They'd swept forward as he'd leaned down toward me, his own smirk playing lightly on his lips. His deep, rough tones were enticing, leaving a bolt of electricity to zap up my spine fluidly and I suddenly felt as if I were thirteen again, held captive by our exchange, unable to look away despite the fact that we were surrounded by others who were watching.

Until Clay cleared his throat.

And my cheeks heated in a blush that spread over them at the knowing looks and smirks being exchanged from guy to guy.

But luckily, I wasn't the only one that seemed slightly off balance.

He'd been sent away then by Clay along with Kip, the guy with a crazy amount of tattoos that was nicknamed Juice, and the different but equally attractive Chibs who I was pretty sure was Scottish from the deeper tones in his accent instead of my previously guessed Irish. They left in a grudgingly boisterous huddle of shouting, laughter, shoving and promises to grill me for answers when they returned, something that brought quiet laugher from my lips, before peace descended upon the bar once more, leaving Clay and I alone.

"So sweetheart," Clay started, pulling me out of my thoughts after dismissing the guys. "You're about four days early by my calendar, Gem's gonna be raisin' hell that I didn't have this place cleaned up in time for you."

I winced slightly and nodded just a little, nibbling at my lip while he watched me before I sighed heavily and leaned against the bar, trying my best not to dwell on his worry over cleanliness of the bar. What could they _possibly_ get up to in this place that was so bad that Gemma would worry about cleaning it for my arrival?

"God, I'm sorry. I just…I _couldn't_ stay there anymore Clay." I murmured, looking down.

His gaze was intense when he leveled it on me from the side, though the blue wasn't nearly as bright as Jax's it was still holding regardless. Which was why I busying myself playing around with the cap of my water bottle he'd offered me instead, trying to spin it in a circle on the smooth bar top to avoid looking at him. I knew he wanted to ask about New York and all that had happened, they _all_ did, and Gemma had tried already when she'd flown up there for me more than once.

But I just…wasn't ready.

"It's no problem sugar," He reassured me, rubbing my back gently. "We're glad you're here."

I bit my lip hard to control the unshed tears that made my eyes water and nodded quickly in trade for speaking since the lump that had grown in my throat was too thick to speak through. Clay slowly unfolded himself from the stool to my left and stood, still massaging my shoulder gently before he bent to kiss the top of my head swiftly.

"So, I've got an errand to run tonight with some of the guys before dinner. I can have one of the boys take you to the house if you want?" Clay asked, walking behind the bar to toss his glass in the sink. "You're still staying with us a few days right?"

More nodding came as my reply while I slid from my own stool, hastily dabbing at my eyes to dry up any brimming tears while my back was to him before I turned and fixed him with a smile that was probably a little too bright and that he could see right through. He laid a comforting arm over my shoulders as I approached him before slowly steering me from the darkened bar and into the bright sunlight, pushing his shades down over his eyes at the same time I did.

"If that's alright," I replied, clearing my throat once from its thickness. "The movers still won't be here with everything for a few days and I still have to go by the realtor's office and pick up the keys."

"That's right," Clay nodded, looking down slightly concerned. "Think you're going to be okay with that…?"

He trailed off quietly and a cool shiver traced its way down my spine, forcing me into biting my lip once more as we came to a stop beside my driver's side door. I hadn't really let myself think much about the idea of moving into the house my mother had spent hours upon hours designing as our charming retreat in Charming. When Gemma had come to New York and we'd called the realtor to open up the house and air it out after we decided I'd be moving there for the time being I'd panicked slightly but Gem had been there every step of the way, grasping my hand and promising that we'd get through it together.

I could only hope she was right.

"It'll be hard," I murmured, letting my eyes wander over the lot filled with bikes and cars. "Aunt Gemma promised we'd get through it though, because we're-"

"_Family_." He finished, grinning down at me.

I flashed a smile up at him as he popped open my door after I'd unlocked it, nodding his head in approval at my choice from the models Gemma had suggested. I felt a daughter's satisfaction at his sense of pride, making me smile wider as he ushered me into the seat and called over a leather clad biker, murmuring directions to him after gesturing to me. When he turned back toward me after I shut the door and leaned into the open window I grinned mischievously, arching a brow.

"Aunt Gemma home?" I queried, grinning.

"Plan on surprising her with your arrival too, huh?" He chuckled before shaking his head at my smirking nod. "If she's not there now she will be soon. Jax will probably be over tonight for dinner, no doubt full of questions about you. You'll be good?"

I laughed quietly before giving him an impish grin with a wave. "Aren't I _always_?"


End file.
